


Leprosus II: Arac

by Jen Hall (Greenlady)



Series: The Seidhrman [5]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:46:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Jen%20Hall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coninuing the story of the re-creation of the Guardians.</p><p>Please note once again that this is an Alternate Universe.  If any character in this story says or does something that distresses you, it's because they live in a different universe with different values from your own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leprosus II: Arac

'Did you have a nice camping trip?' asked Prince Marcus.

'Yes,' said Starsky, very brightly.

Hutch laughed. 'I had a wonderful time. Starsky was sure there were wolves outside our tent, but I told him Viggo would have known if there were.'

'Wolves stay away from the countryside around Rome, for the most part. How far out did you go?'

'Not far,' Starsky answered. 'Up near Veii.'

'The suburbs,' Marcus said. He chuckled. 'There are wolves up in the Apennines. Or so I hear. But if you really want the chance to see them, you have to make it to the Alps.'

'Thanks,' said Hutch. 'We will.'

Starsky sighed. Just what he needed in his life. Wolves. Mountains. Barbarian mountain dwellers who fucked goats, and would as soon kill you as kiss you. He'd had experiences in the Alps.

'Sure,' he said. 'The Alps.'

They had gotten home from their night out under the stars, to find a message from Sweet Angel, asking them to visit her in her new home. She had bought an apartment building in Ostia, and had already moved into one of the apartments, which had been furnished, apparently. She wanted her friends to see it, and give her decorating advice.

'I want it to look respectable,' she said. 'I know how to decorate a brothel. That's about it.'

The apartment was small, but cosy. Several simple rooms on the ground floor, with a courtyard outside. It was clean, but very plain. Hutch had suggested plants. Starsky added that the walls needed art work.

'Paintings. Hangings. That sort of thing. And more lighting.'

'I liked the chandelier in your dining room.'

'I'll buy you one as a house warming present,' Marcus had said.

Neither of them had been particularly surprised to find Marcus there when they arrived. He and Sweet Angel had been very friendly the other night. Neither Starsky nor Hutch had gotten the impression that they were witnessing a one night stand, or that Marcus' interest was only sexual.

Now they were sitting in the atrium, catching up.

'I wanted to tell you that I approve of the way you handled that whole thing with the smugglers. It must have been difficult, Ken. And I'm sorry.'

'Sorry? Why? It wasn't your fault.'

'No. But I wish it hadn't happened. Anyway, there's been a bit of talk about the Barbarian Witch-Mage and his Warrior mate. All of it complimentary.'

'That's nice,' said Starsky, with a grin. 'But why am I mentioned second?'

'We should start thinking about how we're going to organize the Guardians, once we start setting them up. They were always in pairs. Do you think that's practical? And this is the modern age. We have all this new technology. You were talking about forensic science the other day, Starsky. What's that about?'

'Science that can be used in a court of law. Well, like medical forensics. Say you're investigating a murder. How long ago did the victim die? That sort of thing?'

'Could you tell how someone died?' asked Sweet Angel. 'Could you tell if they committed suicide, or were murdered?'

'It's possible, I suppose. I'm not a physician, or a scientist. Well need to have some of those on our team, won't we? Why do you ask?'

'It's just something strange I've been wondering about. Never mind.'

'No, no,' said Hutch. 'Tell us. We want to hear.'

'Okay. It's a bit of a long story. You see, my clients, I mean the clients of my house, they are of two kinds. Most clients pay in cash, after they visit with one of my girls. But some of the older, more trusted clients run a tab. Usually they make regular visits to the more experienced girls, and the prices are higher. It's dangerous to carry large sums of cash around the brothel district.'

'That makes sense,' said Starsky.

'They usually pay the tab off every month or so, but sometimes let it run a little longer. I don't mind, as long as it is paid off eventually. In the last few months, several of these clients have died. In cases like that, I submit my bill, with proofs of the arrangement, to the lawyer handling the estate, in person. We have a little chat about the deceased, how he died, things like that. Every one of these men who died recently, committed suicide. It seems strange to me, that's all.'

'That does seem strange,' said Marcus. 'How many men?'

'Three men, in the last three months.'

'Do you have any idea how much time there was between the deaths?' Starsky asked.

'Not off the top of my head. But I can check my records.'

'Why don't you do that. We'll come and see you tomorrow, if you like. Hutch? What do you think?'

'Sounds like an interesting puzzle. How do you go about investigating things like this?'

'First, we need to read the coroner's report. See what it has to say. This all could be a coincidence. Then maybe talk to the families and friends.'

'If they're willing to talk,' said Hutch.

'In my experience, some people aren't willing.' observed Starsky. 'But other people, you can't shut up. It all balances out.'

'Well, there,' said Marcus. 'You have a new case.'

'What do you say if we celebrate?' Sweet Angel asked. 'Why don't you all stay for dinner?'

******************

It was late morning, almost time for the noon meal, when Starsky and Hutch arrived at Sweet Angel's House. Lupas were not at their best early in the morning, and later on, afternoon business would start.

Sweet Angel was awake, looking cheerful and business-like. She had her records ready for them to study.

'See. The first man, Marius Roscius, died almost three months ago. About a month after him, Jeremiah Scotus. Then, the third man, a month ago -- Arthur Wallace.'

'All suicides.'

'That's what their lawyers told me.'

'Lawyers? So they didn't have the same lawyer?' Starsky asked.

'No. Two of them did. Marius and Arthur. Jeremiah had a different lawyer. Why?'

'I'm just trying to see if there are any similarities between them. I've investigated crimes many times in the Military Police. Even murder. But this is something new. I'm trying to find a place to start, you know?'

'I see,' said Sweet Angel. 'I weave, just as a hobby. When the wool gets tangled, you pull it apart, searching for the end of the thread. But it has to be the right end, to untangle the yarn. If you get hold of the wrong end, you make the tangle worse.'

They all laughed.

'Sounds like a good analogy,' said Hutch. 'I'm at a bit of a loss here. I'm used to investigating spirits, and crimes committed by witches and demons.' His face grew grim for a moment.

'That reminds me,' said Sweet Angel to Starsky, quickly. 'Have you learned anything more about your cousin Simon's whereabouts?'

'No,' Starsky said. 'As far as we can tell, he's still in France on business. We don't want to press the issue, and arouse his suspicions. We never were friends, far from it. What reason would I have to want to see him?'

'To invite him to our wedding?' Hutch suggested. He was smiling again.

'You're getting married?' Sweet Angel looked very happy for them. 'You're going to invite me, aren't you?'

'Of course,' said Starsky. 'Wouldn't think of leaving you out. Or Marcus. But we haven't set a date yet. It's just something we want to do, soon. And we're already married, we just want to renew our vows, formally, since the first wedding was rather hurried.'

'Ah,' said Sweet Angel. 'If you need a lawyer to draw up your contracts, I know quite a few.'

'Contracts? We don't need contracts,' Hutch told her firmly. But he smiled. 'I joined Starsky's familias when we made our vows. That's all that matters.'

Sweet Angel felt some tension in the air, some worry on Hutch's part. As a lupa, she had long ago learned how to adapt to tension, and diffuse it. So she nodded, and smiled, and agreed that nothing more was needed. She stressed that she would love nothing more than to be at their wedding. After several minutes of this, Hutch relaxed.

Starsky said nothing throughout this entire conversation. He stroked Hutch's arm, gently, and looked at him reassuringly. It was all so curious.

No contract. Hutch had joined Starsky's familias without a contract. It was tantamount to slavery, except that Hutch's higher social status as a member of the Senatorial class made such a thing impossible. Certainly he didn't act like Starsky's slave, or his subordinate. Sweet Angel reminded herself that none of this was any of her business. She switched the conversation back to the three suicides. 'I don't know much about the men, outside of the fact that they were rather wealthy, and paid their bills regularly. Their steady girls would probably know more. Would you like to talk to them?'

'Good idea,' said Starsky.

Marius Roscius had patronized a girl called Flora. When Starsky offered her money, simply to talk, she agreed with alacrity. No. Marius hadn't seemed depressed at all before he died. He had always treated her well. He had no unusual sexual tastes that she was aware of, and she knew him pretty well. He was happily married, with a family. He just needed some variety. She'd been with Arthur Wallace a few times in the past, before he started patronizing Emerald. The story there was pretty much the same, except that he had been married to a man. She knew nothing about Jeremiah Scotus, personally. Except for one thing. They all knew each other.

'I've seen them together. They had a number of private conversations in the common room, and they seemed to get along. I don't know what the conversations were about. They kept their voices low.'

'Thanks, Flora. That's a lot of help,' said Starsky. He handed her several silver coins, enough for an hour-long session with a regular client. Flora went off, looking very happy indeed.

'Well,' said Starsky to Sweet Angel. 'It's starting to look as though your instincts were right.'

The other two girls, patronized by Jeremiah Scotus and Arthur Wallace, had little more to add to Flora's account. It seemed that the three men were well off, normal and happy.

So, why were they all dead by their own hand? The lawyer of Roscius and Wallace had no idea either. Starsky and Hutch decided to interview Scotus' lawyer, and then call it a day.

They entered the old, rather shabby building, which housed the law office of Cornelius and Bayliss. The hallways were rambling and confusing, and they soon admitted themselves rather lost.

A door opened suddenly, as they were arguing about which direction to turn next. Someone collided with Hutch. Books went flying all over the floor.

'Aphrodite's Tits!'

They turned. A young woman was surveying the tumbled mass of scrolls and codices. She looked up at them, and blushed.

'I beg your pardon!' she said.

'You're forgiven,' Hutch said, with a smile. She blushed harder.

Jupiter's Balls! That was the problem with being married to a man with a smile that could arouse a statue, thought Starsky. Well, he supposed he could live with it.

Hutch was, of course, helping the woman to pick up her books. Starsky gave his own assistance, and they offered to help her carry them to wherever she'd been going.

'After all,' said Hutch. 'It was my fault you dropped them. If I hadn't been standing there in the first place, everything would be fine.' She led them down the hall to a legal office, and dumped her collection of books on an already book-laden chair.

'Just put them anywhere. Doesn't matter,' she said. Starsky shuddered at the mess, and arranged his neatly on a table. Hutch dumped his own on the chair with the others.

'Now, we're hoping you could give us directions. We're trying to find the offices of Cornelius and Bayliss,' said Hutch.

'Oh?' the young woman asked, in a slightly chilly tone. 'Why?'

'We just need to ask a few questions about one of their clients.'

'Lawyers can't give out such information. Lawyer-client privilege.'

'Ah, yes. But this client is now deceased,' said Starsky. 'So, I don't think that applies.'

'You're right. Both Cornelius and Bayliss are in court today. So you'll have to come back tomorrow.'

It sounded like a dismissal, but Hutch stopped, and stared into space for a moment.

'Wait,' he said. 'Perhaps you can help us. Were you acquainted with their client, Jeremiah Scotus?'

She looked up, startled.

'Yes,' she said. 'I was. He was my client.'

'Client?' Hutch looked confused.

'Client,' she sighed. 'As in lawyer's client. I'm a lawyer.' She sat down at her desk, and tried to look official, though the tendrils of long red hair escaping from her braid made this difficult to achieve.

'Good,' Hutch replied. 'Then you can help us. We've been retained by some acquaintances of Jeremiah Scotus, and two other men, to investigate their deaths.'

'Would the other men be named Roscius and Wallace?'

Starsky and Hutch looked at each other, then looked around for some chairs. Hutch threw a pile of books littering one big chair onto the dusty floor, and pulled it up in front of the lawyers desk. He sat down and Starsky perched on the chair arm.

'Okay,' said Hutch. 'Let's get introduced. I'm Kenneth Hutchinson, and this is my husband and partner, David Starsky. We're investigating this case privately, but one of the people who has retained us has some authority in Rome.'

He held out his hand, and she took it, looking rather surprised. Starsky didn't suppose that as one of the rare new breed of university educated professional women, she often encountered so much ready acceptance. He smiled at her, and shook her hand himself.

'My name is Cynthia Metellus. I just started my practice a few months ago, I must confess.'

'We just started our profession, as well,' said Hutch. 'At least you have a few months on us.' Cynthia grinned, happily. 'How can I help you?'

'As I said, we're investigating their deaths. Someone wondered how all three could have committed suicide,' Hutch told her.

'So did I. But the coroner found nothing suspicious about the circumstances surrounding their deaths. And no one listened to me when I tried to question it.'

'Why did Jeremiah Scotus retain you, when he already had the partnership of Cornelius and Bayliss?'

'He said he wanted a lawyer outside of his regular business dealings. He had just retained me, at the beginning of my practice three months ago, and we had a few conversations about some deal he was setting up. He arranged a meeting with his friends, Roscius and Wallace. They were going to come here, to my office. Then one of them died.'

'Roscius,' said Starsky.

'Yes,' she said. 'Jeremiah Scotus continued to retain me, however. But then he died a month later.'

'Finally, Wallace died a month after that. And the coroner didn't find that odd?'

'He said it was odd. But that oddness was no proof of criminality. Otherwise it would be criminal for a woman like me to be walking the streets of Rome in the guise of a lawyer, as if I were a man. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have repeated that.'

'Nothing to be sorry about,' said Hutch. 'I've had my own experiences with such bigotry. It wears down your spirit. But you just have to fight harder.'

'Yes.'

'Do you know what the business deal was that he wanted to set up?'

'Something about buying up land, and building a subdivision. That's all I know. But I'd like to help you find out. If you want my help, that is?'

'We need all the help we can get,' said Starsky.

'We're going to come back tomorrow to speak to Cornelius and Bayliss,' said Starsky. 'Can you point out their offices for us, so we don't waste time wandering around.'

'This building is confusing,' Cynthia admitted. 'That was their office I was coming out of when I bumped into you. Cornelius likes to... borrow my books.'

'Borrow?' Hutch asked.

'Yes.' Cynthia blushed and looked down at her desk.

'Ah,' said Hutch. 'I take it he doesn't inform you first, or bring them back?'

'No.'

'Well, thanks for your help today,' said Starsky. 'We'll stop by to see you tomorrow, as well. Let you know what we've learned, if anything. Maybe you'll remember more of what Jeremiah Scotus told you.'

'Maybe. But I doubt it. I've gone over and over it in my mind. You'd think he'd have told his own lawyer more, wouldn't you?'

'Maybe he was afraid that talking about it ahead of time would ruin the deal?' Hutch suggested. 'Attract envy from the spirits.'

'You mean he was superstitious?'

'Is that what they're calling it these days?'

*********************************

They spent the rest of the day at home. Hutch cleaned up the little statue of the Goddess he had found at the roadside. She was made of ivory, and still bore traces of the gold foil that had once covered her.

Her feet were mere stubs, but Hutch thought that might have been intentional.

'I think she was made to be stuck into the earth, the way we found her. What's the use of feet then?'

She was naked, and held a cup under one of her breasts, the right one. Her left hand squeezed her left breast. To draw milk, or as an act of eroticism?

They studied some of the history books they'd taken out of the library the day before, but without much luck.

'Why do we know so little about the Etruscan Gods and Goddesses? Why did they leave so few records? They're such a mystery,' said Starsky.

'Perhaps their books were burnt? Or maybe they never wrote any to start with.'

'Why burn books? Why would anyone want to do that?'

'To erase the memory of the very existence of something that doesn't agree with the way you see the world,' said Hutch.

'But we don't do that. Rome doesn't do that. We don't want to wipe out people who are different from us.'

'Not now. But perhaps your ancestors did.'

'Perhaps.'

'I think she was the Etruscan version of Ishtar, or Astarte.'

'Why?'

'She looks like Ishtar, don't you think?'

'Won't she tell you?'

'No. I've tried asking her, but she says she's forgotten her own name.'

'Maybe she won't mind being called Ishtar. Ishtar is a powerful Goddess.'

Hutch started reading one of the other books they had borrowed.

'This is the strong comrade, the one who brings help to his friend in need...when you see him you will be glad; you will love him as a woman, and he will never forsake you....'

'Gilgamesh, and his lover Enkidu.'

'Yes. Another sad story, Starsky. I'm sorry.'

'Don't be sorry. Read me more.'

When Starsky opened his eyes the next morning, it was to the sight of Hutch naked, as he considered the contents of his clothes chest. 'Mmm. Come back to bed, Beautiful.'

'No. You get out of bed.'

'No. I'm the boss. You come back to bed. There were a few things we didn't get around to doing last night.'

'Good. That leaves a few things for us to do tonight.'

Hutch turned back to his clothes chest. Starsky was dismissed. He decided to sulk.

Hutch pulled his toga out of the chest, and held it up, approvingly. He tossed it onto the end of the bed, then dug back into the chest, finally pulling out something in black leather, which he tossed at Starsky.

'Here,' he ordered. 'Put that on.'

'Why?' Starsky had forgotten he was sulking. 'Are we playing Senator and Rough Trade?' That sounded interesting, he thought. It might be worth getting out of bed for.

'Something like that,' said Hutch. 'We're going to see that lawyer, remember? I want to impress him.'

'What for? Who cares if he's impressed?'

'I got a very bad impression about him, from our conversation with Cynthia Metellus. Let's scare him a little. We're not private investigators today. We're looking into the suicides for our own reasons.'

'Ah,' said Starsky. 'We were maybe involved in their business somehow. And now we're pissed that they're dead. We want to know everything this lawyer knows and then some.'

'That's it. And we're friendly with Cynthia Metellus. We don't like how he's been treating her.'

Hutch had, in the meantime, dressed in his toga. He was now pulling jewellery out of his jewel chest, and was trying some on.

'No. Too gaudy,' he said, tossing something gaudy back in the chest. 'I want to look aristocratic, not newly rich. Ah. Starsky? Do you mind if I wear this?'

Hutch showed him a ring. It was beautiful, a cameo carved in onyx. The profile was clearly that of Marcus.

'Does it bother you, Starsky? Marcus gave it to me for my birthday, a few years ago.'

'No. Why would it bother me? It's a good likeness.'

'Yes.'

'It looks like a lover's gift.'

'It was, at the time. That's the idea I want to convey.'

Starsky sorted through the leather clothes that Hutch had handed him. Trousers, a tunic, and a thick leather belt, studded with silver. He tried them on, and they fit. Nice and tight.

'Where did you get these?'

'I had them made for you, after you gave me the toga. You look great. Now, put this on,' Hutch said, and held out Starsky's old army overcoat. He'd removed the rank insignia, since former officers only wore those at ceremonial occasions. Dark patches, where the insignia and ribbons had been, showed up quite clearly. 'Who could tell what your rank was,' said Hutch. 'And you want me to act like I was at least General Something or other? You're evil, Hutch.'

'I learned the value of rank and privilege around Marcus. I don't need it for myself. But I know how to use it, if I have to.'

***********************

They swept into the offices of Rufus Cornelius and Martin Bayliss, shoulder to shoulder. Julius Caesar, thought Starsky, with his lover, Mark Antony, marching out onto the battlefield to survey their troops. Starsky strutted, trying hard not to grin at the picture they must make.

A clerk came running up to them, clearly agitated. 'Excuse me!' he said.

Hutch turned slightly, with a gracious smile and nod, before continuing on his way. The clerk, excused, stood in astounded silence, as they walked into Cornelius' private office, without knocking.

They had heard the raised voices from down the hall.

'Your books? Your books? What does a woman need with books?'

'I don't know. What does a fat-headed moron need with books? Yet, there they are, all over your office. Some of them are mine.'

'Listen, you little whore. Everyone knows what you're really doing in that office. Men have been seen coming out of there. Women too, obviously whores themselves. Now, get out!'

Starsky slammed the door shut behind them. The two combatants looked up.

'What in Hades do you think you're doing walking in here?' Cornelius asked.

'Hello, Cynthia,' said Hutch. 'How are you today?'

Cynthia stared in shock for a moment, but her quick mind caught on.

'Ken! How nice to see you here. And David. How's your mother?'

Good memory for names.

'She's fine. She sends her greetings.'

'Excuse me!'

Lots of people needing to be excused today.

'Who are you, if you don't mind my asking?'

Hutch looked at Cornelius in amusement, as if this request were a joke. He came up to his desk, and leaned over it, placing his hands on the book lying open in front of the lawyer. Probably one of Cynthia's books, thought Starsky.

Cornelius looked down. His eyes lit on the cameo ring, and stuck there. So, thought Starsky. Not quite as stupid as he looks.

'We're here to ask you some questions,' said Hutch. 'Marius Roscius. Jeremiah Scotus. Arthur Wallace.'

'What about them?' Cornelius' throat seemed to be a bit dry. He coughed.

'Did you know them?' Hutch asked softly.

'I knew Jeremiah Scotus, yes. Not the others.'

'Do you know why they're dead?' Starsky asked, strutting around the office as if he owned it.

Cornelius dragged his eyes away from Hutch's ring, to watch Starsky, nervously. Why is he nervous, thought Starsky. Angry, I could understand. But nervous?

Hutch looked up, and their eyes met. Starsky began looking around the office with more interest, as if searching for something.

'Listen. I handled some of Jeremiah Scotus' business affairs. I never even met the other men you mentioned. I have no idea why any of them are dead. Stay away from that chest! Get out of here. Or I'll call the building security guards.'

'Hmph! Big help they are,' Cynthia observed. 'They can't even stop you stealing my books. What do you think they could do against these men?'

Starsky had pulled open the chest and was rifling through its contents. The name and address on one scroll caught his eye.

'The security guards can't stop him from stealing your mail either, Cynthia.'

'Put that down!' Cornelius shouted.

'I don't think he will,' said Hutch. 'In fact, we're taking the whole chest with us.'

'That's theft.'

'Not if the contents belong to Cynthia Metellus, and she did not give them to you. Did you give these papers to him, Cynthia?'

'Certainly not!'

'I didn't think you did. Come on, David. I'll take the other handle.'

'You won't get away with this. I have friends in high places.'

Starsky stopped, and fixed Cornelius with his coldest stare.

'We have friends in places so high, they make your friends' places look like the primal abyss,' he said, and continued out the door with Hutch, carrying the chest.

Cynthia picked up her book from Cornelius' desk, and stalked out after them. They were in Cynthia's office before Cornelius gathered enough breath to start yelling.

Cynthia closed her office door behind them, and leaned against it. Starsky and Hutch put the chest of papers down on the floor and turned to her. She was bent over at the waist, making strange whimpering sounds.

'Are you okay?' Hutch asked her.

She lifted her head and looked at them. Tears were streaming down her face.

'Aphrodite's Tits! I thought today was a waste,' she managed to gasp. 'I didn't want to get out of bed. But now... the primal abyss!' She leaned over again, moaning.

They looked at each other, then down at the chest.

'Guess we should give her a few moments privacy,' Starsky suggested.

Poor girl.

They sat down, right there on the floor, and started searching through the letters and other papers.

'The look on his face! And you, David. Those pants. Where did you get them? Are you looking for a girl friend on the side?'

He looked up at her, grinning. 'No. Sorry.'

She grinned back at him. 'I'm sorry too. But it was worth a try. Sorry, Ken.'

'Don't apologize. I bought him those pants.'

'I'm okay, now. Thanks for this, by the way.' She waved at the chest of papers, and put her rescued book back in its pile.

'No need to thank us,' said Starsky. 'We enjoyed it too. But look here. About a quarter of these papers seem to belong to you. Why would he steal your mail?'

'Since the day I moved in here, he's been carrying on a campaign of harassment. Even before Jeremiah Scotus retained me as his lawyer.'

'So you think it has nothing to do with that?'

'Oh, that was part of it. He wasn't happy at losing some business. But mostly he just hates me because I'm a woman, poaching in his territory.'

'Why do you think Scotus did retain you? I mean if he already had Cornelius...'

'There could be many reasons. He told me that he wanted someone outside his normal business dealings.'

'So, maybe this was an abnormal business deal?' Starsky asked.

Cynthia laughed. 'Now that's a thought. But yes, it could have been abnormal for Cornelius. He is a good business lawyer, I've heard. But conservative.'

'My family has several lawyers, each of whom specializes in some different area of law.'

'David Starsky. The Starsky family. Banks. International trade.'

'Smuggling,' Hutch whispered in Starsky's ear. Starsky ignored him.

'Were you really in the army?' she asked.

'Yes, I really was. And Hutch is entitled to wear all that purple on his toga, too. In case you were wondering.'

'Kenneth Hutchinson. That's not a Roman name.'

'Scandinavian,' said Hutch. He handed her an unopened letter. A lot of the stolen letters were unopened. This did look like a senseless act of harassment, rather than any attempt to spy on her business with Scotus.

'Okay,' said Starsky. 'Let's think this through. Scotus has Cornelius as a lawyer. He's happy with him, though the Gods only know why. Then, this new deal comes up. Scotus, Roscius and Wallace. They need a lawyer for their enterprise.'

'Yes! Of course,' said Cynthia. 'They wanted one lawyer for the deal, and none of them wanted to use one of their regular lawyers...'

'... In case that lawyer was biased in favour of his own client, and didn't guard the interests of the others,' Starsky finished.

'So, he's here seeing Cornelius, and maybe Cornelius makes some snide remarks about me. He thinks, hmm, a new young lawyer. A woman just starting out. Easy to push around maybe?'

'Maybe. Maybe less conservative, less hidebound.'

'Whatever his reasons, he retained me for the group. But then they died, one after the other. Here. Look. These letters were from him. They were written not long before he died. Damn Cornelius to Hades.'

She read through the letters for a few minutes in silence. Then, she placed them on the floor, in order, side by side.

'This was the first one he wrote, several days before he died,' she said, pointing to it. 'He says that he's found someone to take Roscius' place, and they're going out to see the land. He doesn't say what the man's name is. He sounds pretty normal and happy in that one. The next day, he wrote this one,' she went on, picking it up, and waving it. 'He seems depressed in this letter. He's not sure it's such a good deal, after all. Then, the final letter.' She picked that one up, and handed it to Hutch. 'Look at it,' she said. 'The handwriting is different. Sloppy. See how neat these letters are? I can hardly read this one.'

'So, perhaps he did kill himself?' Starsk asked.

'Yes, but why? Why go from cheerfully ambitious to suicidally depressed in two days? What changed him?'

'Well, what happened to change him? He went to visit the land he wanted to buy,' Starsky said. They looked at each other, in turn.

'Interesting plot of land,' said Hutch. 'If it can have that effect on someone.'

'Let's review what we know,' Starsky suggested. 'We have three men -- normal, happy men, as far as we can tell.'

'Their families might know differently,' Hutch said.

'Yes, and we can go talk to them next,' said Starsky. 'But somehow, I think this has nothing to do with their families, or their personal lives. It has to do with this 'deal', this land.'

'I agree,' said Hutch.

'So, the three meet somehow, maybe at Sweet Angel's House.'

'Sweet Angel?' Cynthia asked. 'The Madam?'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'They were seen talking together there. Perhaps they discussed the deal there. They make plans, find a lawyer. Then something goes wrong. One of them dies. They find someone to take his place. And so forth. Was the deal something illegal? Did they get involved with dangerous people?'

'I didn't get that impression when I talked to Scotus,' said Cynthia. 'He was a bit secretive, but I didn't sense any fear. Even his letters don't reveal any fear. Except perhaps the last one. But he seems more depressed to me.'

'Then why keep the deal a secret?'

Starsky was stalking around Cynthia's office by now. Hutch could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. He'd taken off his overcoat, and then the leather tunic, and was wearing only a thin cotton shirt over his pants. Cynthia was watching him, appreciatively.

'It must be hard,' she said.

'Huh?' Hutch asked. 'What must be hard?'

'To decide which side is best. His front or his back?'

'Yes. Very hard.'

Starsky had stopped his pacing, and was looking at them, as they sat on the floor side by side, their backs against the wall. He grinned, then stalked up to Hutch and stood over him for a moment.

'Take a good look at the back,' he said, and turned around. 'Now the front.' He turned back. 'Okay, which do you prefer?'

'I need more information,' said Hutch.

'Mmmm. Later,' said Starsky, and knelt between Hutch's legs to kiss him.

'Starsk!' Hutch warned.

'Well, don't stop just for me,' said Cynthia. Hutch looked up suddenly, a startled expression on his face. He scrambled to his feet, and began his own prowl about the room.

'What's the matter, Babe?' Starsky asked.

'Remember yesterday? We were talking about this very subject. Why Scotus didn't tell you what the deal was, I mean. I said that maybe he didn't want to draw the envy of the spirits, and you called that superstition.'

'Yes,' said Cynthia.

'No. It wasn't the spirits that stopped them. They weren't superstitious. They chose you because they thought you wouldn't be superstitious. You're young, and a woman willing to go against tradition by becoming a lawyer. It was superstition they were afraid of, but the superstition of other people.'

'How did you figure that out?' Cynthia asked.

'Never mind,' said Hutch. 'It's worth investigating, isn't it?'

'Okay,' said Starsky. 'Land. Superstition.'

'They were going to build on the land, remember? Some sort of subdivision, they said. Wait.' Cynthia got to her feet, and started digging through a drawer in her desk.

'This room was furnished,' she said. 'Whoever used it before me, left these maps behind.' She spread out some maps on the littered floor, and they studied them.

'Land,' said Starsky again. 'What land would make people superstitious? A graveyard?'

'No,' said Hutch. 'That would be more than superstition. If they can buy the land at all, it has to be less dangerous than that.'

'From his letters, it sounds as if the land is close to the City, but not too close. Maybe an hour or two on horseback.' Cynthia suggested.

'One of the suburbs, or a small village nearby,' said Starsky.

Hutch was studying one of the older maps. It was large, and showed a lot of detail of the lands around Rome. He trailed his finger over the outline of the City.

'The suburbs,' he said. 'Or a small village.' His finger settled on a name. 'Perugia?'

'That's a very small village. Just up the Tiber. About an hour by horse,' said Starsky.

'There are some woods nearby,' said Hutch. 'Look. What does this say? The name of the woods? The print is blurry.'

'Let me see,' said Starsky, and took the map from Hutch. 'That's strange.'

'What's strange?' Cynthia asked.

'It's a strange name to call some woods,' he said. 'Leprosus.'

'Leprosus?' She shuddered. 'Leper?'

*******************************

'Here you are,' said Marcus, tossing them a bunch of official-looking scrolls. 'That's the Reports from the Coroner for our three suicides. And they do look like suicides.'

Hutch grabbed a scroll and began reading through it. 'The coroner says that Roscius was found hanging by the neck from a tree in a park near his home. He'd died sometime during the night. The coroner says he would have died slowly by strangulation, not quickly from a broken neck.'

'That's what my report says, the one for Wallace. It's the way the knot was arranged,' said Starsky.

'That may or may not be significant,' Marcus said. 'Most people probably wouldn't know how to tie a proper neck-breaking knot. I'm not sure I could do it myself.'

Hutch shuddered. 'Don't try experimenting to find out, okay?'

'Why, my dear, I'm so glad that you care, after all.'

'Marcus! Don't be an idiot. I love you. I always have, and I always will.'

'Sweet. Wait a moment, is that the ring I gave you?'

'Yes,' Hutch blushed. 'Starsky said he didn't mind.'

'Thanks, David. But why did you wear it, Hutch? To impress someone? No, no. That's fine. Who was it? That lawyer you interviewed? Gods, Hutch. Wish I could have been a fly on the wall, there.'

'Starsky was pretty impressive, himself.'

'In those pants? Yes. But you've been letting him walk around in them all day?'

'Letting me? He bought them for me, and made me put them on,' said Starsky.

'That's another scene I would have liked to have witnessed.'

'You're starting to worry me, with your voyeuristic tendencies, Marcus. You need a girlfriend, or something,' said Hutch. Marcus chuckled, but said nothing. Starsky and Hutch looked at each other, and shrugged. Oh, well. We'll get it out of him eventually, they thought.

'To get back to the suicides,' said Marcus. 'Scotus died the same way as the other two.'

'More similarities,' said Starsky.

'Listen,' said Hutch. 'The Coroner's office interviewed family members and friends, after Roscius died. Roscius' wife said that he was happy and healthy up to the night of his death. Then he seemed upset about something. They had an argument, she said. He accused her of being unfaithful, and when she denied it, he hit her. It was the first time he'd ever hit her, she said. Then he ran off into the night, and she never saw him alive again.'

'That hardly seems like a reason for a strong, healthy man to kill himself,' said Marcus. 'Merely suspecting your wife is unfaithful?'

'No,' said Hutch. 'But if you're not of sound mind? And maybe the fact that he'd hit his wife was the deciding factor.'

'Scotus was single,' said Marcus. 'But his family said he was a little depressed over Roscius' death, though they weren't close friends. That's it.'

'Wallace's husband said he was worried over the deaths of his colleagues,' Starsky told them. 'He doesn't report any fights, but Wallace was away on business when he died.'

'Where did he die?' Hutch asked.

'Up near that little town you were interested in. Perugia? They don't have a coroner there, and Wallace was a resident of Rome, so our coroner handled the case. Hutch. You scare me,' said Starsky. 'That place does seem to have some bearing on all this. We should go up there. See what there is to be seen.'

'Good idea, David,' Marcus said. 'But, better wait until tomorrow, it's getting close to dusk.'

'Hey, we're big boys. We're not afraid of the dark.'

'No. But how much can you see up there after dark? And it will be a darker night than usual. It's the new moon tomorrow night.'

'New moon?' Starsky said. 'Wait. Do you have a calendar?'

'Right there on the wall.'

'That's this year. What about last year?' Marcus started searching through his desk, and finally pulled out a calendar from the previous year.

'Here you go. What do you want to know?'

'Okay. The men died a month apart. Or so. Let's see. Yes. Wallace died last month, on the Ides of Januarius. It was the new moon. When did Scotus die, Marc?'

'The day after the Ides of December.'

'Let's see. Yes. New moon. Hutch?'

Hutch passed him the report on Roscius, and Starsky looked at the date, then compared it to his calendar.

'New moon,' he announced.

'Perugia was an old Etruscan town. As Rome grew, it shriveled into a village. The villagers are insular, and suspicious. On top of that, there's some strange new cult -- can't remember what it's called. It's really caught on there, and the cult members are even more insular and suspicious. How much do you expect to learn, riding into town after dark, in the middle of winter, babbling about curses and suicides and lepers? Tell me that?'

'Listen to Marcus, Hutch. He knows what he's talking about.'

'Listen? Listen to what? Who cares about cults and their suspicions? Three men are dead, and probably because of something in that town. Someone else could die. Maybe tomorrow. And we're the only ones who know, the only ones who can stop it. If you won't, I will.' He turned, and started for the door.

'Hutch!' Starsky shouted. 'Stop there. Not another step.'

Hutch turned to him, astonishment all over his face.

'I forbid you to go tonight. We'll leave first thing in the morning, as soon as the sun is up. But we're not going tonight. You are not going there alone, at any time.'

'Starsky? What are you doing? I am a seidhrman, a shaman. I'm supposed to be helping people, not sitting around cowering in fear.'

'Hutch, we don't know what's going on. We don't know who or what is involved. It could be an evil witch. It could be a gang of really clever murderers. Yes, you're a powerful witch, but you're not invulnerable. I forbid you to just go running off into the middle of a battle without preparation. We need to scout out the territory, gather as much information as we can. That's not cowardice, it's just plain good sense.'

Hutch sat down, looking defeated. Starsky came over to him and knelt at his feet. He took Hutch's hands in his, and kissed them. 'I love you,' he said. 'Forgive me?'

'There's nothing to forgive. I suppose you're right. Both of you. But I feel so frustrated. I need to do something now.'

'We are doing something. We're planning out our campaign.'

'Are you intending to go to Perugia alone?' Marcus asked in a neutral voice. Starsky glanced at Hutch, handing over the decision to him.

'We're only going to ask some questions,' he said. 'I don't think we'll need armed guards. That would probably scare everyone into silence. I still think we should go tonight. I have a bad feeling about all this.'

'Come home with me,' said Starsky. 'We'll leave first thing in the morning, I promise.'

Hutch stroked his hair, burying his hands in the dark curls.

'As you wish,' he said.

**************************

They rode along the riverside, in the morning mist. Hutch looked happy, now that they were on their way. Viggo ran beside Hutch's horse. 'I'm not leaving him behind,' Hutch had announced. 'He can wait outside the village, if you think a wolf will scare all these simple-minded, insular village folk. But I want him around, just in case.'

The country around Perugia was hilly, but not hilly enough to task the horses. They circled around behind the town, looking for the woods that the map had named Leprosus.

'There,' said Starsky. 'That looks about right.' They dismounted, and walked their horses a short distance into the woods. In here, it was still almost as dark as night, though the sun was well up. Starsky wondered if the sun ever really pierced the thick canopy of tree branches. He felt a chill rise up from the ground, and was about to suggest they turn back and head into the village.

'Starsky, there's something wrong here.'

'Yes. It's as cold and damp as a witch's tits... Oh, sorry. I didn't mean yours.'

'It's cold, yes. But that's not what I meant. The spirits here, they're not awake.'

'Maybe they don't know it's morning?'

'Starsky? Are you listening to me?'

'Yes. But I'd listen better if we rode into Perugia and found an inn or something. Get something hot to drink?'

'Just listen for a moment, okay. Everything on earth has its indwelling spirits. Every rock, every tree, every river and stream and lake. You do. I do. So does Viggo and your horse. Everything.'

'I get that. Okay.'

'The spirits of this wood are all asleep. As if the wood is under a spell. Or a curse.'

'Why would someone curse a whole wood?'

'Not the wood itself, I think. Just the spirits. They're under someone's control.'

Off to Starsky's left, he saw a flicker of movement. Viggo pressed against Hutch's leg.

'There's someone watching us,' said Hutch.

'I know,' Starsky said. 'Let's get out of here, and go find that inn.'

They rode into the village square and pulled up in front of what looked like a decent inn. Hutch dismounted and strode up to Starsky's horse, laughing.

'Come on, Babe,' he said. 'What's keeping you? You were the one who wanted the inn.'

Starsky was staring at the rather disreputable gang of young men, hanging about outside the inn, instead of working, or studying, or whatever kids that age should be doing. Jupiter's Balls! I'm getting old, he thought. Now, I'm looking at the younger generation and wondering if I was ever that wrongheaded.

Something made his horse shy, just as he was dismounting, and Hutch caught him in his arms to steady him. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, then kissed gently before letting each other go.

Someone made a retching sound. A stone hit Hutch's back. Starsky looked up in time to see the stone-thrower bend to pick up another one. The kid didn't reach the stone before a furious Starsky had him face down on the ground with his arms twisted behind his back.

'Hey! Let go of our friend,' one of the other kids shouted.

'I will when I teach him a lesson,' Starsky said. 'Listen, you little punk. No one throws stones at my lover. If you were a few years older, I'd kill you for that, but I'm making an exception for your youth and brainlessness. Why aren't you in school? Or in the army? Or anywhere but here? Well? Answer me?'

The kid squawked something incomprehensible about homosexuals. What did that have to do with anything? Were all these people morons? Marcus had clearly been right about them not being able to learn anything here after dark. The wonder would be if they could find out anything useful here at all during the day.

'What are you doing with my son?' asked a new voice.

'Teaching him some manners. So this brat belongs to you? Take him home and beat some manners into him, will you? I'd suggest you beat some brains into him as well, but that would be a waste of time. Just teach him not to throw stones at innocent people on the street.'

'Is that right, Jason? Did you throw stones at these men?' The man was tall, and rather severe looking. He reminded Starsky of someone he had known in the Vigil Militarius. Not a pleasant memory.

Starsky had dragged the kid to his feet, and was holding him by one arm and his neck.

'Yeah, but they're not men,' said Jason. 'They're homos.'

Starsky laughed. 'We're what?'

'Homos. Homosexuals. They kissed each other, Father.'

'Is that true? Were you kissing in the street?'

'That's none of your business, but yes, I kissed my lover. I'll do that anytime or anywhere I want.'

What was wrong with these people?

'We don't like homosexuals.'

'That's too bad. That must seriously cut down on your chances of getting laid, so I understand your frustration. But I don't like people who throw stones at my lover. And I can be back here in an hour with several hundred Praetorians who feel the same. Where's your army?'

He threw the kid into his father's arms, and stalked back to Hutch who was leaning against his horse laughing ruefully.

'Starsky, Starsky, Starsky. We came here to ask some questions, not to start a war.'

'The only question I want to ask those people is, who dropped them on their heads when they were babies?'

Someone laughed. Starsky looked around for his next victim. It was a woman, about middle aged, small and dark and plump. She looked cheerful, and had clearly been enjoying the whole scene.

She and Hutch looked at each other for a long moment.

'Mother,' he said.

'Son,' she answered. 'Why don't you bring your lover up to my house. I'll answer all those questions you came here to ask. And feed you breakfast besides. Better than what you'd get in the inn. Free too.'

'How could we resist an offer like that?' Hutch wondered.

******************

'So these people belong to a religion that tells them who they can fuck? And that snivelling brat had the nerve to say we aren't men?'

'Is he always this fierce,' asked Luscinia.

'Ah. You've met him on one of his gentler, kinder days,' Hutch declared. 'But I agree with Starsky, Mother. Where do they get such strange ideas?'

'I'm not really sure, myself. From what I can make out, their God told them it was offensive for two men to make love.'

'Why? This god want all the man on man action for himself?' Starsky wondered.

Hutch thought Luscinia was going to choke, she was laughing so hard.

'As I say, I don't really know. It all started a few years ago. Some members of this new cult came here. Apparently, they had trouble finding members in Rome.'

Starsky howled with laughter. 'Now that I can believe. So, do these lunatics have any other amusing dictates?'

'Other than that there's only one God, none that I'm aware of.'

'Now I remember. I've heard of these people before,' said Hutch. 'But I wasn't aware that they had some special objection to men having sex with each other. It seems pretty stupid to make that a point of theology. Surely there are more important things to worry about than who has sex with whom. Which brings us to why we came to your charming, rustic little village.'

Luscinia was laughing again. 'Son, you cheer me up. These days, I'd almost given up on having an intelligent conversation with anyone. Ask away.'

'We came up here partly because a man hanged himself in those woods near here. That was about a month ago.'

'I remember. Yes.'

'Starsky and I were looking at a map yesterday. The map said those woods were called Leprosus.'

'Yes. They were called that, long ago.'

'Why? Why would anyone give them such a name?'

Luscinia was silent for a long moment, staring into her cup of tea. Then she looked up at Hutch, and nodded.

'You are a powerful shaman, like I once was. Now, I've lost some of my power, but I can still recognize a warrior shaman when I see one. I wouldn't tell this story to just any stranger who came by. But you have a reason for asking, don't you?'

'We think those woods have something to do with the deaths of several people lately. Probably innocent people. Also, when we were in the woods earlier, I sensed something strange there. A strange spell.'

'I don't know about the spell. I've never been in those woods. No one here ever goes in those woods. What I can tell you, is the story of what happened there, many centuries ago.'

Starsky felt a chill go down his spine. He moved his chair closer to Hutch's, so that he could press his thigh against his lover's thigh and feel its warmth and strength.

'Once, very long ago, there was a leper colony in those woods. They stayed far away from the village, but villagers brought them food, and clothes, and other necessities of life. All was well, for a very long time.

'But something changed. The murders started. Every night of the new moon, someone was murdered, strangled to death in his, or her, bed. Men, women, even children. This went on for some time, and no one could catch the murderer. He would murder on the darkest night of the month, and then disappear until the next month.

'Then, one night of the new moon, someone woke up before she was dead, and fought her attacker off. She screamed, and roused the village. They chased him to the leper colony, and he sought shelter there. He disappeared among the lepers, and none of the lepers knew which one it was, so they could not give him up. The woman could not identify him, for he had only been a shape covered in old, dirty rags.'

'What happened then?' Starsky asked.

"The villagers set fire to the leper colony from a distance, and shot all the lepers who tried to escape. All of them died.'

'But that wasn't the end of the matter, was it, Mother?'

'No, my son. The spirits of the lepers haunted the woods, and threatened everyone who tried to go through them. The spirit of the murderer was the worst of them all. Eventually, the shaman of the village went to the woods, and tried to exorcise the spirits, but they were too many, and too strong. So she bound the spirits to the woods and to her service. For many centuries, the shamans of this village have kept the spirits bound.'

'But that changed, didn't it, Mother?'

'Yes. A few years ago, a Veneficus came here. He fought a battle with me, over the spirits of the wood. And he won. I fear he has been using the spirits for evil purposes.'

'I think he has, too,' said Hutch.

'He took me completely by surprise,' said Luscinia, as they walked in the garden in the early afternoon. 'It never occurred to me that anyone would want to take over the spirits. In all the centuries that the shamans of Perugia had held the spirits of Leprosus bound, no one had ever evinced the least interest in them. We thought no one else knew of their existence.

'Then, he came out of nowhere -- Arac. He killed my apprentice first. She was my lover, too. Then he attacked me. I was too stunned, too lost in my grief, to react in time. But that's no excuse. Do you wonder why I go on living at all?'

'No,' said Hutch. 'You honour her by staying alive.'

'Not by staying alive. By hoping. I want to see him defeated. Someday. I want to see her avenged. Then I can join her, wherever she is now. Elysium? Is that what you believe? I've almost forgotten my beliefs.'

'Elysium. That will do. Or perhaps one of the Otherworlds. One of the branches of the World Tree.'

'To live on a tree. That sounds peaceful. But first, someone must defeat Arac. Otherwise, I can never know peace, and neither can she.'

'We could fight him together,' Hutch suggested.

'I wasn't strong enough then, and his strength has grown,' said Luscinia.

'How do you know that?'

'I've felt it grow. He has been practicing evil blood magic, I know. And I think he has gathered allies.'

'Allies? What sort of allies?'

'I don't know. I only feel these things obscurely, now. My senses are muffled and darkened. But still, I do feel them.'

'Yes, you do,' said Hutch. 'You haven't lost your power. It's still there.'

'Weakened.'

'No. Not weakened, Mother. Muffled and darkened. But your powers have grown, in the dark, and underground. You don't realize that, because you haven't tried to use them. And you can't sense your own powers, because he's muffled your senses.'

'Are you sure of this?' Luscinia asked.

'As sure as I am of anything. But to get back to these allies. Could they be other witches? Witches of lesser power, perhaps?'

'No.' Starsky spoke up for the first time. 'The villagers, the ones who belong to that strange religion. They are his allies.' Hutch looked up, startled. Starsky's eyes were dark. His voice sounded rough, husky with some emotion. Fear?

'Do you think that's possible? They didn't seem like the sort of people to align themselves with a witch,' said Hutch.

'Why not? It's a perfect alliance. He wants power. They want power. He wants to rule by fear. They want to rule by fear. Both sides see a future where they turn on their ally and squash him like a bug. Hutch, who cares about these people? What can we do here? Let's leave. Now.'

'Starsky? What are you saying? That we should let this evil Veneficus go on killing?'

'I'm saying we should leave. I'm leaving. You better join me. I'll get the horses. Be ready when I come back.'

Starsky turned and walked out the front gate, toward the grove of trees where they had left their horses tethered. Hutch stood silent, watching him walk away. What had Starsky just said? He was ordering him to leave and not to interfere? That had not been their agreement last night.

'Something is wrong with your lover,' said Luscinia.

'Yes. He's lost his mind.'

'That might not be far from the truth. Go after him. Stick with him. Love is more important than justice. It should come first.'

*************************

Hutch closed the door of their bedroom behind him, and leaned back against it. Starsky was taking off his coat, pulling off his boots, muttering to himself the whole time.

The ride home from Perugia had been much the same. Starsky had given Hutch one glare, then mounted his horse and ridden off, leaving Hutch to follow in silence. Hutch decided to break that silence, now.

'What's wrong, Starsky?'

'Nothing.'

'Men!' Hutch said, putting as much loathing into his voice as he could manage. At the moment, that was a lot.

Starsky looked up. 'What's wrong with men? You're a man.'

'Not always. Sometimes I'm a woman. Would you like me to stay a woman, and you can keep me pregnant, and order me around? Maybe make me wear a veil, like the Persians? What do they call that? Purdah? Is that what you want?'

'No. Of course not. Even if you were a woman, I'd never treat you like that. We'd have an equal marriage.'

'What if I didn't want that?'

'Hutch, you're confusing me. What do you want? Tell me.'

'I want you to tell me what's wrong. Why are we back here, when we should be tracking down this killer? You told me to wait until today, and I waited. Then you changed your mind. Don't you keep your promises, Starsky?'

'Don't talk to me like that. You gave me authority over you. Now you don't like it. That's too bad. Look! You should talk. You're still wearing his ring. Take it off!'

'What ring? This one? You said you didn't mind.'

'I do mind. Take it off.'

'If you don't like it, you take it off.'

Starsky stalked toward Hutch, and grabbed his hand, trying to get Marcus' ring. Hutch pulled his hand back. As if by itself, Starsky's left hand rose up and struck Hutch across the face.

'Feel better?' Hutch asked. He hadn't even blinked. Starsky stared at him in horror.

'What? Hutch? What did I just do? God, Hutch. Please. I didn't mean....'

'What's the matter, Starsky? Tell me, so I can help.'

'I don't know. I've been feeling so strange, ever since we rode into that town. No, even before that, in the woods. But that's no excuse, Hutch. You have to believe me, I didn't mean to....' Starsky couldn't seem to say the words.

'You didn't mean to hit me. I know.'

'Don't. Don't just say it, like it was normal. Like it doesn't matter. I'd never....'

'You'll never do it again, Starsky. I won't let you. It's not normal, that's why I forgive you. You said you felt strange. How? How do you feel? Starsky, look at me, help me.'

'I don't know how to describe it, Hutch. I've never felt this way, like everything is doomed. You're going to die, or leave me. I'll be left all alone. Why don't I end it now?'

'That's not you, Starsky. Something has possessed you. But I can't see the other signs.'

'What other signs?'

'I can usually recognize very quickly when someone is possessed. And I should have been able to see it right away with you. Whatever has possessed you is very clever. It's hiding in some deep part of your soul, and it's spreading its poison very carefully. You have to fight it, Starsky. Trust me. Believe me, that I'm not going to leave you. Do you want me to take off Marcus' ring, and never put it on again? I can give it back, or destroy it?'

'No. No, don't feed that jealousy, Hutch. It's not my jealousy. I felt a little jealous at first, but that's long gone. Leave the ring on, if you like. To remind me not to give in. How do we find whatever is doing this? What do I have to do?'

'We have to join our minds, and our spirits. Become one.'

'How? How do we do that?' Starsky sounded so uncertain, so unlike himself.

'The usual way.' said Hutch.

*******************

The branches of the World Tree, Yggdrasil, stretched off into eternity. One branch lowered itself at their approach. Hutch climbed on, then turned to offer his hand to Starsky. He looked over Starsky's shoulder. A grey, hooded figure was following him. Hutch held up his hand.

'Nei!' he said. The hooded figure stopped. Hutch took Starsky's hand. 'Vestu heill! Ekki ertu sva sterkr sem ther haefir. Koma!' ** Starsky joined Hutch on the branch of Yggdrasil.

(** 'No!' he said. The hooded figure stopped. He took Starsky's hand. 'Greetings! You are not as strong as you should be. Come!')

**********************************

For the second time that day, they dismounted at the edge of the woods. This time, they didn't continue into the trees. Instead they stopped at the crossroads, and moved off the track, into the meadow. It was a meeting place of three roads. One road led up to the woods. Two roads branched off, one travelling north, one south. No road led into the woods.

Hutch sat cross-legged on the ground. Starsky stood watch by the horses. It was dusk. In a short time, there would be full dark. The darkest night of the month. The night of the new moon.

'Are you sure you want to do this, Starsky?'

'You're not going in there alone. That's final.'

'I've put as many safeguards around you as I can. And remember, you're strong. You fought him. No one else has ever fought him and won.' 'With your help,' said Starsky.

'Of course. But you're even stronger now. You know him. Don't doubt yourself. That's important, because if Arac attacks, and all the spirits of Leprosus at the same time, I won't be able to deal with them all alone.'

'I'm coming along to watch your back. You do what you have to do. Don't even think about me.'

'I'm always thinking about you, Starsky.'

They had planned this campaign as carefully as they could, given the time left to them. Starsky and Hutch would enter the woods, and make their move against Arac. Luscinia would wait outside Leprosus, to deal with any stray spirits or witches, but would not enter the woods itself, as Hutch could not protect himself, and two other people at the same time.

Marcus, with a company of Praetorians, was camped just outside of town. They would deal with any non-supernatural threat. Some of the Praetorians had indeed been interested to hear about the stone-throwing incident.

Hutch began to chant, and sway in circles. Starsky heightened his watchfulness, keeping an eye out for movement at the edge of the trees. Viggo sat down before his human companion, watching his every move. The wolf suddenly threw back his head and howled. Starsky jumped. What was wrong with the wolf? He had never responded in this way to one of Hutch's trances.

There was a flicker of movement among the trees. Another. A dark, silent shape slithered out of the woods. A second shape joined it, and then a third. Wolves!

Viggo stood up and barked. A whine answered him. The wolves circled slowly, always watching Viggo, and the man by the horses. Starsky was nervous. He didn't want to start a fight with the wolves, who outnumbered them, he could now see, by about a dozen. They appeared more curious then threatening, however.

Viggo watched the other wolves for a moment or two, then sat down in front of Hutch again. Hutch was oblivious. Viggo howled. This time the other wolves joined in. The howls rose, higher and louder. The hair on Starsky's head was standing on end. He tore his eyes away from the circle of wolves for a moment to check the edge of the trees once more. When he looked back, Hutch was gone.

Gone? No. How could he be gone? His clothes were there, all in a pile. Standing in front of Starsky was another wolf, bigger than the dark Italian wolves. Bigger even than the tall, gray Viggo. This wolf was white, as white as the Norwegian snows. Its eyes were blue. Light blue, and startled. The wolf blinked, backed up a few steps, and barked.

'Hutch?' Starsky asked.

The wolf whined, and barked again. It seemed this was Hutch.

'What happened?'

Another whine and bark, and the wolf shrugged. Okay. Hutch was a shape-changer. He could turn into a woman. Now he could turn into a wolf. Useful, if less attractive.

The other wolves slithered up to join them, and Starsky was treated to the sight of over a dozen animals sniffing his Hutch all over. Starsky growled, and Hutch barked at him. The bark sounded like laughter.

The last rays of the sun sank beneath the horizon. The wolves whined. It was almost impossible to see anything. Somewhere nearby, dogs bayed. Hounds! Hunting hounds?

Hutch pushed out of the welcoming pack of his new kin. He nudged Starsky, and barked. Starsky looked behind him, in the direction Hutch seemed to be indicating. Down the road, the road they had travelled earlier, someone else was travelling. A torch was held in the traveller's hand. The light was barely enough to make out a hooded figure. Dogs bayed again. The dogs were travelling with the torch bearer.

Starsky felt a shiver of fear. Too many strange things were happening at once. There was something about the person coming toward them. Something about the way she walked. Something uncanny and inhuman. Starsky stood rooted to the spot as the torch bearer drew near. Her dogs bayed before her. The wolves all cowered, and hid behind Hutch and Viggo. The torch bearer stopped a few yards from the group. Her dogs stopped beside her. She lifted the torch high in one hand, and pulled back her hood with the other.

Starsky bowed his head before the Goddess.

'Hecate,' he said.

The problem with these men, thought Arac, is that they need to get laid more often. More thoroughly. Let me amend that, he said to himself, they need to get reamed by a man with a big cock. Nine inches. A man like myself, for example.

Arac fully intended to demonstrate this fact to the whole damned bunch of them as soon as possible. Too bad tonight was too soon, and would disturb the status quo.

He listened to the self-styled head of the little cult ramble on about how taking it up the ass made you less of a man. Made you a woman, in fact. Taking another man's semen inside your body destroyed your own semen and made you weak.

Yeah, right.

Arac shifted on his bench, and kept his face bland and approving. The whole nine inches, right up the ass, he thought. Every last one of you. Just not yet.

It wasn't easy being the intermediary between a bunch of stupid mortals and a jumped-up little tribal godling who wanted to be the God of Gods. It was hardly worth the trouble, in fact. The only reason he stuck with them, was because they were there. They were better than nothing. They wanted to set up their god as The God, and rule the world, and they were willing to use evil, hatred, bigotry, murder and anything else that came to mind, to do that. Arac just happened to be good at all those things, and he needed followers. Now, they were stuck with each other. But not for long, thought Arac. As soon as I get the power I deserve, it's reaming time for the whole lot of you.

The little temple inside the woods formerly known as Leprosus, was hot and stuffy. It was safe, though. Arac had placed safeguards all around. No recalcitrant evil spirits would possess any cult members tonight, attractive as such an idea might be. Not yet, he told his familiar spirits, soothingly. Soon.

*************************************

'Hecate,' said Starsky, again.

'So, you know who I am,' said the Goddess.

'Yes. I should have expected you. It is the night of the new moon. And we are at a place where three roads meet,' Starsky said. 'May I ask if you have a reason to be here?'

'You may. Someone prayed for my aid, and I have answered. I believe you know her. She is called Nightingale.'

'Nightingale? Luscinia? She asked for your help?'

'She wants revenge for a terrible wrong. She thinks that the powers aligned against all of you are too strong. I agree. The evil that you face is old, and it has grown stronger recently, with all the blood sacrifices. I have agreed to lend my assistance, but I am not the Chief of the Gods, or the God of War.'

'Hecate is a powerful Goddess, at the dark of the moon.'

'Your faith gives me strength, Mortal. What were your plans?'

'My lover and I were going to enter the woods and challenge Arac to a duel. But the situation has changed. My lover has become a wolf.'

'The Daughters of Night have taken him over, and made him their weapon. They have turned against the one who rules this wood, and his friends.'

'But what are we going to do now? Hutch cannot speak, so how can we make new plans?'

'I can help you. But I must allow Fate to work Her will. Stand still,' she said. Hecate disappeared.

'There,' she said. Her voice echoed strangely inside Starsky's head.

'Where did you go?' Starsky asked.

'She's inside you,' a different voice answered him. Hutch's voice.

'What just happened?' Starsky wondered.

'I am possessing your body for a short time, Mortal. I will return it. This will hide my Presence from the one we hunt. In the meantime, you can talk to your lover, in his wolf form. Is that satisfactory?'

Starsky closed his eyes for a moment. Could this day get any stranger?

'Don't give voice to such questions, Starsky,' his lover thought in his mind. 'You don't want to tempt Fate.'

Hutch's white wolf fur glowed with its own inner light, the way his soft, blond human hair seemed to trap the rays of the sun. Eros truly has me in His clutches, thought Starsky. I'm thinking licentious thoughts about a wolf.

Can he hear my thoughts, or only my verbal speech? And what about Hecate? Is she listening to all this babble?

'No, Mortal. I'm running through your memories of the past few nights. And I thought we Gods were lusty.'

Starsky wondered if Hutch felt like this all the time. As if he had someone else inside him? Gillian. Or was he so used to it, he no longer noticed?

Hutch ran at the front of the pack, Viggo at his side. Just behind them, ran Starsky-Hecate. The wolves, and Hecate's Hounds, surrounded them, a great swelling tide of long legs, and panting tongues. Their eyes glowed with a red flame that owed nothing to reflected light.

Leprosus was the darkest place on earth, Starsky imagined. The trees grew close enough to block most of the rays of the morning sun. Tonight, there was not even moonlight to trickle through. The wolves and the Hounds ran silently. Starsky was not an experienced runner, but Hecate was in control of everything except his thoughts, so he was keeping up, easily.

He wondered if this run would be the last thing he and Hutch ever shared.

'Starsky, for the Gods' sake, don't be so cheerful.'

Well, that answered one question.

'I'm sorry. This just isn't the sort of campaign I'm used to.'

'Remember what I told you? You're stronger now. He's going to be surprised.'

Starsky wasn't exactly sure what they were searching for.

'Evil,' Hutch replied.

That was a big help. Evil. What was Evil?

'That's it. Get metaphysical, while running through a forest as black as Tartarus. Just watch your feet -- our feet.'

Hecate, again. Starsky's head was beginning to feel a bit crowded.

'Not much farther,' said Hutch.

Oh. Good. How did Hutch know that?

'The ground feels colder.'

'I didn't notice. Particularly.'

'You're wearing boots.'

**********************************

Arac was getting bored. Didn't these men ever think about anything but homosexuality? The way they were going on and on about it, you'd think they had frustrated homosexual desires.

Or something.

Oh, wait. This was new. Pay attention!

'And then there are all those false gods,' said Daniel, the group leader, his voice dripping with scorn. 'They have hundreds of them. Who needs so many gods? All we have is one. He gives us all we need.'

Tiny brains, thought Arac.

'That's the reason they sin so grievously. They're confused, and they don't know any better. But we will teach them, when we take over. Anyone who repents, we will allow to live.'

'What about the homos?'

Yes. Get back to the homos. The questioner was Jason, the leader's son.

'They are probably incapable of true repentance. Homosexuality is addictive, you know. Other men's semen is like a drug. Once you've tasted it, you're addicted for life.'

You would know, Arac said to himself.

'We'll probably have to kill them all.'

Yes. Good idea. Get rid of the evidence. Was this evening ever going to end?

The leader was going into detail about how he intended to kill every homosexual he met. All in the name of religion, of course. Arac was falling asleep. It was the disturbance in the field of energy around the temple that woke him up. He raised his hand in a sarcastic show of respect that went right over Daniel's head.

'Excuse me,' he said. 'But we have visitors.'

*************************

The building was old, very old. The path leading up to it was lit with torches. There were sentries stationed outside, but so far they had noticed nothing.

Starsky would have whipped the hide off any sentry that allowed such a large group to get so close to any encampment he was in charge of. Of course, these sentries probably saw their position as mainly ceremonial. Starsky-Hecate walked around the entire building, studying the layout.

'I don't think we can fight our way in, without Marcus and the Praetorians. And that's out of the question.'

'Agreed,' Hutch answered him. Them. Starsky wasn't sure any more which he was.

'What we need, is to get them to come out.'

'Okay.'

Hutch didn't sound so sure about this part of the plan. If Starsky could call it a plan.

'Look, Hutch. We could call it a night. Maybe they're just in there praying. Maybe they're sorry they killed people, and threw stones at us, and whatever other bad things they've done.'

'Somehow, I doubt that, Mortal.'

'See. Hecate's a Goddess. She knows these things. Now, does anyone else have a plan?'

'I'm not here to plan, Mortal. I'm here to offer my support for your plan.'

'Thanks, Goddess. Hutch?'

'Getting them out of the building sounds good. How do we get them out? Then what do we do? By the way, there is some sort of net around the building. I think I just touched it. I think they know we're here.'

'There you go. That's how we get them out. Good work. Now we improvise. Hutch, get out of sight. Viggo too, and the other wolves. Hecate? Can you tell your dogs to hide? Just for now. We want to make it look like I'm here alone. Spying.'

'Good plan, Mortal.'

'I hope so.'

The dogs and the wolves, Hutch among them, vanished into the woods. Starsky could feel the cold now, creeping up from the ground, through his boots. It stopped him in his tracks, just as the door to the old building opened, and a man came out. A man as white and cold as an icicle hanging from the branch of a black tree. He looked around the clearing, and spotted Starsky, standing as still and silent as a statue in a garden.

'Well, well. What have we caught? A little rabbit in a snare. My friends tell me that you were caught in the same snare earlier today, but escaped. Then you came back for more. Don't you learn? Stupid, stupid rabbit. And why all alone?'

The icicle stopped in front of Starsky and tilted its head to study Starsky, with predatory curiosity.

'Has your pretty, blond boyfriend deserted you?' It was strange listening to the creature talk, as if a snowman were to suddenly open its mouth of coal, and speak. Starsky decided not to answer, mostly because he couldn't. His tongue seemed frozen in his mouth.

'Hutch?' Starsky thought, as loudly as he could.

'Shh. I'm here,' Hutch thought back. 'Just stand still.'

Hutch seemed to be under the impression that Starsky had a choice. Okay. Let him keep his illusions. He'd lose them soon enough.

'Mortal! You are letting the witch take over your mind, like the evil spirit did earlier,' Hecate informed him. 'Did you learn nothing the first time? Wake up! Hutch needs you on his side, not his enemy's.'

'Little rabbit, caught in a snare. My friends tell me they can catch you, but they can't eat you. They tell me that you have armour all around your soul, and they can't break through. You probably think you're safe, and that's why you came looking for me.' The icicle laughed, a sound like breaking glass.

'You're wrong,' it said.

The witch rose onto his toes and lifted his arms as if to fly. His arms became wings, his legs grew claws, his face became the face of a large, predatory hawk.

'Arac!' the hawk screamed. It flew a little distance away, then turned, aiming its claws for Starsky's face.

Starsky tried to raise his arms, but the spell held. The giant hawk was only a few feet away, claws outstretched. A great white wolf launched himself from among the trees. Hutch's jaws clamped onto one of Arac's wings, and pulled him to the earth.

The two witches tumbled over and over on the ground. Hutch's snarls and Arac's screams rose in a warlike chorus. Starsky struggled against the spell that bound him. Hutch was strong, but the evil witch had all the power of his dark magic behind him.

'Push, Mortal. Think of it like giving birth. Or wait, you're a man. I forgot. Think of it like penetrating, to make a baby in the first place. Is that a better analogy?'

Will I ever get her voice out of my mind now, Starsky wondered? He pushed against the cold that held him. Hutch was down on the ground, the great hawk on top of him. No. That was all wrong. Starsky threw himself against the wall of ice, and it shattered. The breaking of the spell rang throughout the forest.

Arac paused in his attack. Hutch's jaws closed over the hawk's throat. Starsky flung himself through the air, pulling his knife from his belt at the same time.

Starsky's knife entered Arac's heart, at the same moment that Hutch ripped out Arac's throat.

Starsky pulled his knife out of the witch's heart, and looked up at Hutch. Hutch was in a rage, tearing the hawk's body to shreds. A freezing wind blew up, shrieking through the woods, as Leprosus came back to life. The death of the witch who had held it in his thrall, was releasing all its spirits, both good and evil.

Starsky heard voices behind him. He turned. It was the cult members, one of them the boy who had thrown rocks at Hutch. What was his name? Oh, yes. Jason. Jason's father was right behind him.

'So, you have killed our priest? Well, pervert, here's my army. Where's yours? I don't see any Praetorians with you. They too scared?'

Starsky stood up. He looked down at Hutch, who was eating part of Arac. 'I don't need any Praetorians,' he said.

Jason pulled out a knife.

'That's not as big as mine, little boy,' said Starsky.

Jason screamed in rage, and ran at Starsky, his knife held high, like a sword. Starsky's own knife ripped into Jason's guts, and up into his heart. Jason stared at Starsky with astonishment for a moment, before his body collapsed on the ground, and lay unmoving.

'Who's next?' Starsky asked.

All the cult members decided to attack at once, this time, but Hutch had abandoned the body of Arac, and called Viggo and the other wolves out of the forest. It was pandemonium for several minutes, and Starsky lost track of the battle, as it raged around him.

A cold chill was again creeping up his legs.

'Hecate?'

The Goddess didn't respond. Starsky realized that she had left him. She was standing among her Hounds, and the wolves, saying something to the cult members. In one hand she held a torch, in the other, a long knife. The cult ran off into the woods in terror, her Hounds after them. 'Hutch?' Starsky said out loud. Could Hutch hear him? 'Hutch, the guards you put around me are broken. One of the spirits is back.'

Hutch looked up at Starsky, his eyes like chips of ice. Then he leapt, straight for Starsky's throat. Hutch wrestled Starsky to the ground, and stared down into his eyes. He growled.

Starsky got the message. Fight! Starsky could feel the evil spirit leave his body. Hutch jerked once or twice, then was still. Slowly, Hutch backed off Starsky's prone body and lay on the ground, shaking. Starsky crawled to him, and pulled the white wolf into his arms. He stroked the thick fur. Hutch looked up at him for a moment, his eyes dark with some deep sorrow. Then, his body began to change.

Within moments, Starsky was holding Hutch's naked human body in his arms. He pulled off his heavy overcoat, and wrapped it around his lover. He stroked Hutch's face, and it was wet with tears.

'What's wrong? It's all over now. We won.'

'Yes. We won. Let's go home.'

'Home sounds like a good idea,' Starsky agreed. Hutch was still shaking. Starsky helped him to his feet, and put the overcoat on him properly, ignoring his protests.

'It's winter. It's freezing. We've got a long walk ahead of us. I'm dressed, and I'm wearing boots.'

'Starsky! Arac!'

'What about him? He's dead.'

'Dead, yes. But we didn't stake his heart.'

'We were busy. I'll do that now. Where is it?'

They searched the ground, using torches from the entrance to the meeting house, or whatever the old building was. Viggo, and some of the wolves joined in. There was no sign of the witch's heart, or his body, only a few feathers. Hutch was disturbed.

'Maybe Hecate's dogs ate it. You were eating the body, remember? Maybe you ate it.'

'No. I'm sure I didn't.' Hutch stumbled on the icy ground.

'Enough. We're going home. Now. Hutch, we'll come back in the morning, but we're wasting our time tonight.'

'The morning might be too late.'

'We've looked all around, Hutch. Either the heart has been destroyed, or it's already too late. I'm sorry, but that's my call. We're going home, while you can still walk.'

Hutch met his eyes defiantly for a moment, then gave in. Probably, he couldn't even see straight by now.

Viggo led them back along the track to the edge of the woods. Their horses were waiting, still under the spell that Hutch had laid on them. Starsky got Hutch into his clothes, and was wondering how he was going to get him up on horseback.

'I think you should get behind me, on my horse, Babe. We'll lead yours.' Hutch only nodded. Now, Starsky knew he was near the end of his endurance.

They heard hoofbeats, coming down the road. Marcus, and a small band of his Praetorians, joined them.

'We got some of the cult members, after you chased them out of the woods, and I've sent them back to the Palace to be questioned,' Marcus announced.

Hutch shuddered.

'I think we'll pass on that, if you don't mind, Dominus,' said Starsky.

'That's fine with me,' said the prince. 'You've done enough, tonight.'

'No. Not enough,' said Hutch, darkly.

'We didn't manage to stake the witch's heart. Hutch is worried he'll come back to life. I'm not too worried. There wasn't much left of him, after Hutch was finished.'

'Sounds like you had quite a night. I was talking to Luscinia. She says that the witch died, and she has the spirits back under her control. Except for one.'

'Don't worry,' said Hutch. 'I bound that one. It's safe.'

'Good,' said Marcus. 'You go home. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Thanks, Marcus. Could you help me get Hutch up on my horse? Don't argue, Hutch. You were wavering all over the path like a drunk. Come on, Babe.'

Hutch gave in, muttering about men with frustrated mothering instincts, and a few incomprehensible things in his own language that made Marcus choke.

'I think that was treasonous, so I'll pretend I don't understand Norse,' he said, and gave Starsky's horse a pat. 'We'll get your horse back to you, Hutch. Go home to bed. That's an order from on high.'

He grinned at them, and mounted his own horse, then rode off toward the town, his Praetorians following.

***********************

By the time they rode up to the villa, Hutch was asleep, his head on Starsky's shoulder. The sentries at the entrance were alert, and noticed them from far down the street. Luckily for them, as Starsky was not in a forgiving mood.

Hutch woke up as they rode through the gates. He insisted on dismounting by himself, and Starsky allowed him that much. After that, he took Hutch's arm and steered him inside.

Hutch looked around the villa as if he'd been away for years. He touched the altar in the Atrium, where they had blessed the house that first evening. It seemed so long ago. Hutch seemed to think so too. He wandered down the hall and into their bedroom, as if he wasn't sure which room was which. But when he saw the bed, he walked over and just dropped onto it. Starsky thought he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Starsky pulled off Hutch's boots, and most of his clothes, then manhandled him under the covers. He stripped off his own clothes and joined him. Hutch's body felt cold. Starsky wrapped himself around his lover to keep him warm.

Starsky was dreaming. Hutch was back in wolf form. They were playing together in the woods. It was summer, and the woods were alive and warm with light. Hutch danced around Starsky on his light, wolf feet, and barked, like a puppy. His fur was soft and warm. His eyes were human. Hutch rubbed his furry head over Starsky's bare stomach and growled, playfully. He licked Starsky's chest, then lower and lower. Starsky moaned. Hutch licked his cock and Starsky came. It was sweet, innocent and loving.

Which made it all the more puzzling that Hutch should be crying, dripping tears all over Starsky's face, and whispering, 'I'm sorry. I love you.'

***********************

Starsky slept in. The sun was well up before he opened his eyes. Hutch's side of the bed was cold. All his clothes had been picked up and put away. Hutch was probably bathing, or eating breakfast.

He was not in the bathing room, or the kitchen, or the Atrium, however. Starsky found Ignatios in the stables. When the servant saw him, he ran up, holding out a folded piece of paper.

'Sir. Master Kenneth told me to give you this.'

'Thank you, Ignatios. Why didn't you give it to me earlier?'

'Master Kenneth told me not to wake you, Sir. He said to wait until you were up, and asking about him. Sir.'

Ignatios looked scared. This wasn't good.

Starsky opened the note. It said: 'I'm sorry. I love you.'

There was nothing more.

'Ignatios, when did Master Kenneth leave?'

'About two hours ago, Sir.'

'I see. Get my horse ready.'

'Yes, Sir. Master?'

'Yes, Ignatios?'

'I've had the impression that you have doubted my loyalty once or twice.'

'Not really, Ignatios. You're still alive.'

'Yes, Sir. But I am loyal, Sir. I would give my life for this household.'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'Why tell me this now?'

'Master Kenneth was very upset when he left, Sir. He was crying. I know it isn't for me to report on Master Kenneth's personal business, and I would never say a word to anyone else. But I thought you should know that.'

'Thank you, Ignatios. Hutch is upset about something that happened last night. He has nothing to fear from me. Not even if he had gone to meet a lover. My horse?'

The woods were alive with the morning light. It was all a little like Starsky's dream, except that Hutch was not there to share it with him. Starsky rode along the faint trail that they had taken the night before. He wasn't comfortable in the wilderness, but after nearly a decade in the Roman Army, he could find his way around in it. The old building looked even older by daylight, without the atmospheric torches to lend it some charm. It was crumbling at the corners, and looked like a haven for vermin. Hutch's horse was tied up outside.

'Hutch?'

No answer. Starsky looked around among the trees, surrounding the building. Clearly, Hutch had come here to check on the witch's unstaked heart. Though why he couldn't have simply woken Starsky and said so, Starsky couldn't begin to say. Hutch was a mystery, at times. The word 'simple' wasn't in his vocabulary. Hutch was nowhere to be found. Nowhere outside, that Starsky could see. Why come out here, and disappear? Unless he was in the old building, for some reason.

Starsky walked up to the doorway. There was a new wooden door, set into the old stone frame. It was closed, but there was no lock. Starsky turned the handle and opened the door, then walked in, cautiously. Who knew what vermin had infested this dump.

There was a single large room. What appeared to be an altar, had been built against the far wall. Benches lined the other walls. In another corner, there was a round table, and some chairs. Hutch sat in one of those chairs, in front of the old wooden table, his head resting on his arms. He seemed to be asleep. Starsky walked up to him quietly, pulled out a chair, and sat down beside him. He touched the soft blond hair, and whispered Hutch's name.

'Hutch? Babe? What are you doing in here, love?'

'What? Starsky? Don't!' Hutch jumped to his feet and looked around wildly. 'Why are you here? You're not supposed to be here.'

'Hutch, I'm here looking for you. You just left this morning, without waking me. I was worried. Are you okay?'

'No. No, I'm not. You have to leave. Now, Starsky.'

'Leave? I'm not going anywhere without you. What are you saying?'

'Starsky, you don't understand. You don't know what happened. I'm dangerous.'

'I know. I've seen you fight.'

'It's not that. I didn't realize last night, how bad it was, or I'd never have come home.'

'How bad what is, Hutch?'

'The spirit that attacked you. Both times. Remember? The first time, we scared it off, together. Then, just after we killed the witch, it attacked you again. I bound it. Or I thought I did. It's the ghost of that leper, the one who murdered all those people, Starsky. The witch was letting it free, to murder again. It can kill by driving its victims to despair. That's what it did to those men, to Scotus and the others. It probably killed before them, but no one noticed, because it was suicide. That's what it was trying to do to you.'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'But we fought it off.'

'Now, I have it bound. But it's too strong for me, Starsky. I can't control it. I can't come home with you, not ever again.'

Starsky looked at Hutch calmly, as if his terrible statement were expected.

'All right,' he said. 'I guess we're moving in here, then. Temporarily, of course.' He looked around the room, disdainfully.

'Starsky,' Hutch whispered. 'Haven't you been listening? You can't stay here. It's not safe.'

'It's a dump, I agree. Probably fall down on our heads during the night, especially with the way we rattle the walls. Maybe a tent would be better, until we can build a new house.'

Hutch just stared at Starsky. His eyes were full of fear. All that fear was for his lover.

Starsky took Hutch's hand.

'You didn't really believe I was going to let you stay here alone, did you?'

'You have to. You have to leave, Starsk.'

'That's not for you to say. You don't get to order my life. I get to order yours. Let's see. I'm not letting you out of my sight. We can go and see Luscinia. Or wait, the Praetorians are probably still camped outside Perugia. Marcus would let us use a runner to send a message home. Home. Now that's a beautiful word. Why don't we just go home?'

'I told you, Starsky. I can't control him, he's too strong for me.'

'Bullshit. He's telling you that, trying to frighten you, to wear you down. Arac controlled him, and you were stronger than he was. You killed Arac, remember?'

'He let the spirit off its leash occasionally. And they were both evil. They had an agenda. Arac held him back with promises. The spirit knows I won't do that.'

'So, he's working on your fears, to beat you down. He's already separated us. He's got you here, back on his own ground. How long before he persuades you to let him kill just one person?'

'Never. I'd never do that. He wants to kill you, Starsky. He told me that last night.'

'But you held him back.'

'Of course. I'd never let him hurt you.'

'You are stronger than he is, Hutch. Your love makes you stronger. Our love. It's like silk, fine, and soft, and strong. It keeps the little silkworm warm and safe in the coldest winter. Then you unwrap the little cocoon, and spin it into a fine thread, and weave it into a beautiful tapestry. That's what this spirit will never have. It will never have our love. This love.'

Starsky pulled Hutch off his chair, and out the door into the sunshine. It was cold out, but warmer in the sun. Starsky took the blanket off his horse, and laid it on the grass in the clearing.

'What are you doing, Starsk?'

'Showing this spirit what he doesn't have. Showing him how weak he is. How strong we are. How I'm not letting you go, ever. How I'm not letting him hurt you, ever. Showing him that I'm the one who commands this situation, not him. Lie down.'

It was truly amazing, thought Hutch. Nothing stopped him. Nothing put him off. Not the weather, or storms at sea, or how tired or hungry he might be, or how many nosy neighbours might overhear. Or anything. If Starsky decided they were going to make love, they made love. Hutch let Starsky pull him down, onto the blanket.

It was some time later. Hutch lay with his head in Starsky's lap. 'He was always a killer, from the time he was a boy, believe it or not. He just enjoyed killing people. Helpless people. Children. Babies. Old people.'

'Killing can be a pleasure. I know that. Killing your enemy, in battle. It's a horrible pleasure, but it's there. Part of it is relief, that you're still alive. Part of it is the joy of knowing you are the better, the stronger one. But there is something else, something I've never wanted to understand. I just ignore it. Maybe I shouldn't?'

'I don't know if it would be good to look at that too deeply. But that pleasure wasn't just a part of this man, under his control. It became all of him. He's even forgotten his own name, where he was born. But he remembers every time he killed someone.

'Then, he got leprosy, and was sent here. His sufferings didn't ennoble him, however. He went on killing, and eventually he was tracked here, and all the lepers were killed. With time, his spirit took over the whole forest. All the spirits are twisted by his influence, now. But he's the strongest.'

'No. You're the strongest. Remember that. When you start to doubt that, come to me.'

They fell asleep, under the tree, wrapped in the horse blanket, Hutch's head in Starsky's lap. Starsky wasn't sure how long they dozed, maybe an hour. He wasn't sure what woke him at last. Perhaps the sensation of being stared at. Stared at by something evil.

He opened his eyes carefully, one at a time, and surreptitiously felt for his knife. There was no one there. No one human.

'What do you want?' Starsky asked the grey-cloaked figure in front of him. The spirit said nothing.

'Whatever it is, you can't have it. You do what he tells you. Got that?' Starsky stroked Hutch's hair, gently. Hutch stirred slightly in his sleep, murmuring Starsky's name. The spirit writhed, as if in pain. 'Why don't you just leave? Go. I won't stop you. I don't want you anywhere near him.'

The spirit shook its head. No.

'Because you can't leave. He has you bound. You're his slave.'

The spirit nodded. Yes.

Starsky stroked Hutch's hair again, and bent to kiss his eyes. Hutch snuggled closer and sighed. The spirit writhed again. It opened its mouth in a silent scream of pain.

'This hurts you, doesn't it?' Starsky leaned forward and whispered softly to the evil spirit. 'I can stop the pain, or I can give you more. A lot more. You behave yourself. Obey him in all things. Stay in your little prison, wherever it is that he put you. Don't watch us or listen to us, and keep your mouth shut. I'll let you stay there, nice and quiet.'

Starsky dropped his voice even further. 'If you bother him, if you try to escape, or do anything he doesn't order you to do, I'll tell him to make you materialize, the way you did now. I'll make you watch, and I'll do more than just kiss him. Do you understand me?'

Yes, the spirit nodded. It seemed they understood each other.

'Good. Now, if you behave yourself, like I said, I might have a little reward for you, sometime in the future. Might. Remember, you have to earn it.'

'Mmm. Starsky? Who are you talking to?' Hutch looked up and saw the spirit. 'What? What is he doing here?'

'It's okay, love. Tell it to go back where it belongs. He's going to be a good little spirit from now on.'

The spirit disappeared, quickly. Hutch sat up and stared at Starsky, who grinned back at him, quite unrepentant.

'What was that all about?'

'That was just a little discussion. We needed to clear a few things up. Like I said, he's going to behave.'

'Why? And what was that about rewards? What are you up to, Starsky?'

'You don't need to know why. In fact, it would be better if you didn't know. Trust me, Hutch. The rewards? Hmm. I was thinking about one of the other members of my troop in the Military Police. He loved killing, for the fun of it. Even if he wasn't on torture detail, he'd show up to watch, and he usually ended up taking part. He was vile, Hutch, as a human being. But as an assassin? The best. It wasn't just a job to him. It was his art.'

'What are you up to, Starsky?' Hutch asked again.

'Nothing, without you. I'd never do anything to hurt you, love. You know that. Either you agree, or that spirit stays in his prison.'

'I can't see myself ever agreeing to using that monster's services.'

'Then we won't. But you don't know what you might need in the future. In the meantime, if that monster bothers you, tell me. Okay?'

'Okay.'

******************************

'I knew this cult existed. It didn't concern me. I don't care whether someone worships one God, or a hundred Gods. Or even none. I'm not interested in examining anyone's soul,' Marcus said. 'But now they've forced it on me. It isn't something I'm going to forgive them soon.'

They were in the dining room of the villa. Starsky and Hutch lay curled together on their couch. Sweet Angel was on her own couch, watching while Marcus paced up and down. Starsky had never seen him so agitated.

'Is the entire cult like those people we met at Perugia?' Starsky asked. 'I've heard conflicting reports about their beliefs. This bunch we met seemed a bit extreme to me.'

'They are extreme. But how did they get that way?'

'Maybe interacting with Arac, and the spirits of Leprosus did that,' Hutch offered.

'Could that happen?' Sweet Angel asked. 'Could being around evil make you evil, if you weren't evil to begin with?'

Hutch looked up, and smiled. 'No. You're right. I should know better.'

'I didn't learn much from questioning them. They spat curses at me. They seemed to think their God would punish me for my sins. I told them he could try. Now what? Should I ignore this cult, hope it will go away? Should I look into this more deeply, in case they are plotting insurrection?'

'I don't know what to say, Marcus. Except for one thing you might not want to hear. None of you will want to know this, but it's true.'

'Well, no one wants to hear bad news, but we all need to know the truth, Ken.'

'Very well. We've just created some martyrs.'

'Thank you, Ken. You were right. We didn't want to know that.'

**************************

The depths of the woods of Leprosus could hide anything, at the darkest hour of a night with no moon. Anything could go unnoticed. Even a bird's wing, rejoining its body, and going in search of its head.

*** The End ***


End file.
